


Filth

by Markovia



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Blood, Fighting, Hate Sex, Language, M/M, PWP, Sex, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-11-12 03:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11153217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markovia/pseuds/Markovia
Summary: He wonders sometimes if they're both too involved, if this fucked up, twisted relationship of theirs will be the only constant either of them ever have. Sometimes he begs to a god he doesn't believe in that this, this shit, isn't all he will ever be. No-one answers apart from Izaya.





	1. Buried in the dirt

**Author's Note:**

> Two shot. Forgive me, I wanted to write some plotless smut. Next chapter will just be filth. Don't bless me, for I have sinned.

It’s a sweltering afternoon in Ikebukuro, the sun beating down a dry heat onto the city streets below. There’s no wind, no clouds, it’s almost unpleasant so most of the denizens are shaded beneath trees in parks or fanning themselves in izakaya gardens. A man in a bartender’s uniform is walking along the city streets, flanked by another with dreadlocks and a tall, caucasian woman. The woman is fanning herself with a magazine, her face set in a look of disgust. 

 

“You okay Vorona?” the man with the dreadlocks, Tom, asks. He doesn’t mind the heat, in fact he finds it rather pleasant, but he can see that she is thoroughly uncomfortable. 

 

“It is too hot,” she replies, blankly. “Wish I was back in snow.”

 

“Amen to that,” the man in the bartender’s uniform agrees. He’s already loosened his bowtie and rolled up his sleeves but he’s still overheating so he removes his waistcoat and slings it over his shoulder. With a weary groan, he unbuttons the top two buttons of his white shirt and runs a hand through his hair. “Too fuckin’ hot.”

 

Tom chuckles and looks down at his watch. “You should wear something more appropriate for the summer Shizuo. It’s almost quitting time, so why don’t we finish early today? We could go grab a beer.”

 

Shizuo fishes a cigarette out of his top pocket and jams the filter into his mouth before lighting it. “Sounds good. Can we go t’that place with the slushie cocktails?”

 

“I second,” Vorona states. She holds out her hand to Shizuo and he automatically passes her a smoke. They’ve worked together for a while now and their getting used to one another’s habits. “Pleasing drinks.”

 

Tom smiles at his colleagues. They’re more alike than they think. Along with their matching hair colour, they’re both surly, incredibly strong, always surrounded by a cloud of cigarette smoke. He’s knows there’s nothing romantic there, Vorona’s seeing some secretary chick and Shizuo - well, Shizuo’s head is full of one person in particular.  _ That  _ isn’t romantic either, Tom thinks, it’s something closer to obsession, definitely within the realm of hatred. 

 

“That sounds great, let’s go,” he says, jerking his head in the direction of the bar. 

 

The two blondes nod, smoke curling out of their mouths. It’s not far to the bar, only a couple of streets away. Shizuo tells his colleagues to go on ahead, he needs to get cash out from the point in a nearby shop. After stuffing his wallet with enough cash to get him wasted tonight, he heads toward the bar. He stops at an ice-cream shop on the way and buys one for himself and Tom. Vorona doesn’t like ice-cream, so he makes note to get her a drink when he arrives.  

 

Except he never gets there. He’s only a few feet from the door when something heavy lands on his shoulders and suddenly his vision is blank. There’s a  _ stench  _ forcing its way up his nostrils and the tickle of fur at his neck. Before he can move there’s a grating, familiar voice gleefully speaking next to his ear and he realises that there’s someone sat on his shoulders. 

 

“Guess who?”

 

As if he even had to ask. Shizuo’s fists clench around the ice-creams and the fragile cones crack. The desserts flop to the floor and splatter onto the ground at his feet. The blond roars loudly, his usual war-cry, the name he hates so fucking much-

 

“Iz-a-ya!”

 

He reaches back before the man can dart away and drags the squirming informant over his shoulder. The fur lined hood of the other’s coat is clenched between his fingers and he pulls it up so that Izaya’s feet are dangling over the floor. The brunet smiles at him, as if he’s happy to see him, but there’s a nasty glint in his eyes that read  _ fuck you.  _

 

“Hi Shizu-chan!” he says, cheerily. Something rumbles in the blond’s chest, an angry noise that seems to make Izaya even chirpier. “Dear, dear, someone’s in a bad mood.”

 

Shizuo bares his teeth and pulls the other man closer so that he can spit his words right in his face. “How many times do I have to tell you to stay the fuck outta ‘Bukuro?”

 

“Oh, did you tell me that before?” he asks, innocently. “I must have missed it.”

 

Before the blond can reply, the information broker swipes forward and suddenly there’s pain across his chest. When Shizuo looks down he sees blood starting to blossom in a straight line through the white of his shirt. He turns his gaze back up to Izaya, who’s smirking at him unpleasantly, a familiar switchblade held delicately between the fingers of his right hand. A vivid, angry red clouds his vision and he throws Izaya against the side of nearby building. There’s people starting to run away from them already, citizens of Ikebukuro who know better than to remain near the two of them when they start fighting. 

 

The information broker smacks hard into the concrete and slides to the floor but he’s still smirking when Shizuo approaches seconds later. That awful smile sets him off again and with a vicious growl, he punches forward, aiming for Izaya’s face. The hit doesn’t land, they rarely do as the flea is fast, so his knuckles crunch noisily against the wall. Blood spurts from the torn skin and from the slight jolt of pain he wonders if his hand is broken. It doesn’t matter if it is, he’s too dedicated to beating the shit out of Izaya to care. Somehow the informant has rolled beneath him and is now sitting atop his shoulders again, legs dangling on Shizuo’s chest. Izaya’s fingers are in his hair, scratching at his scalp and the knife is at his throat, digging in enough to make him hold still. 

 

“Down, boy,” Izaya purrs into his ear. He digs the knife in a little further as Shizuo goes to raise his hand. “ _ Stop. _ ”

 

“Fuck you,” he grinds out. He stills the hand he’d been moving and mulls over the possibility that he can run backwards into the wall and crush the bastard before the knife is pushed in too far but remains where he is for the moment. “What are you doin’ here, flea? Usual nasty shit?”

 

Izaya chuckles and leans forward so that Shizuo can see the dark of his hair if he glances sideways. His mouth is so close to the blond’s ear that he can feel the warmth of his breath curving around the shell. It sends an imperceptible shiver down his spine and another strong feeling slips in amongst the anger. The fingers in his hair tighten slightly and he grits his teeth, thoughts sent back to another time Izaya’s hand was tearing delightfully into his scalp. 

 

“Not today,” the informant murmurs. His hold turns from tight to soft and Shizuo wants to shudder when he realises Izaya is  _ petting  _ his hair. “I just wanted to see my favourite animal.”

 

Shizuo hisses and makes to move but the knife at his throat presses against, hard against his Adam’s apple so he stops and draws in a breath to try and calm himself. “I’m not an animal.”

 

“Are you sure about that? You snarl like one, you smell like one,” Izaya laughs. He mashes his lips against Shizuo’s ear and the blond jerks violently at the feeling. “You  _ fuck _ like one.”

 

While Izaya is laughing maniacally, Shizuo finds the opportunity to grasp the knife and throw it to the ground. The blade cuts into his hand and blood spills out onto the pavement below but he ignores the pain and starts to back up. The informant lets out a surprised yelp and starts to move but Shizuo clamps his hands down on the man’s knees and keeps him in place. 

 

“Shizu-cha-” he’s cut off by the winded gasp that wretches from his throat when Shizuo shoves his back against the wall of the building. His head claps back against the hard surface and there’s a loud crunch from one of his shoulders. With stars bursting in his eyes, Izaya groans and feels the blond disappear from beneath him. He sinks to the floor, knees buckling beneath him and he falls at the larger man’s feet, face in the dirt. 

 

“Stupid fuckin’ flea,” Shizuo growls. He holds his injured hand in the fingers of the other and peers into the bloody wound unhappily. “What the fuck are you playin’ at?”

 

Izaya manages to croak a laugh as he pushes himself up onto his hands and knees. Before he can answer there’s an explosion of pain in his stomach where Shizuo’s foot lands. He collapses back onto the ground with a pained grunt but resists the urge to pull his knees into his chest. Instead he lets his usual smile spread across his face and he rolls over onto his back so that he can stare up at the other man. 

 

“So unpleasant to me, Shizu-chan,” he teases. “I only came to see if you wanted to-”

 

“I don't.”

 

“Your dick says otherwise.”

 

Shizuo feels his face heat up. He’s been trying to ignore the hard-on since Izaya’s knife first slashed his chest but the comment makes it painfully obvious again and he kicks the informant again out of frustration. Izaya groans and Shizuo hoists him up off the floor by his neck so he can force him back against the wall again. There's a trickle of blood running down the brunet’s forehead but the bastard is  _ still  _ laughing, he’s  _ still  _ staring and Shizuo’s still hard against the metal of his fly. 

 

“Leave me alone,” the blond snarls. Izaya opens his mouth to speak but Shizuo crashes his free hand onto the concrete beside his head and it shuts again with a satisfying  _ click.  _ “Why can't you leave me alone?”

 

Izaya grins, showing teeth. “Must I remind you that  _ you  _ came to  _ me _ last time?”

 

That's true, that he can't deny. A week ago, drunk and high, he went to Shinjuku. He tore off the fleas clothes and viciously fucked him over his desk until his files were covered in cum. He still didn't understand why but he rarely questioned his own actions anymore. When the rage hits there's not much he can do to stop himself, he’s almost blind with wrath and eventually some other sin will force his hand. 

 

“Poor Shizu-chan,” Izaya cooes, clearly amused by the odd look on the blond’s face. “You’re so confused aren't you?”

 

“I-”

 

“But I’m not,” he continues, eyes growing wider and more frenzied by the minute. “I know what you want.”

 

Shizuo doesn't doubt that, he has the feeling that Izaya sees straight through him, knows him better than himself. There's a flipside to that - he, and he alone, understands Izaya. All the weaknesses and hate and filth that the man stands for, he can  _ see  _ all of that. He wonders sometimes if they're both too involved, if this fucked up, twisted relationship of theirs will be the only constant either of them ever have. Sometimes he begs to a god he doesn't believe in that this, this  _ shit _ , isn't all he will ever be. No-one answers apart from Izaya.

 

“So are you gonna take me home and screw me?” Izaya asks, petulant as ever. “Because I'd rather not waste my time, there's better things I could be doing than play-fighting with you.”

 

“Fuck you,” Shizuo hisses, drawing back the hand beside the informant’s head. “I'm not in the mood. It's too hot.”

 

“Later then?” he replies, smoothly. His dark eyes narrow slightly and a coy smirk pulls one side of his mouth up. “I'll choke on your cock in the way I know you like.”

 

The blond releases him and takes a few steps back as if he’s reeling from the dirty words Izaya’s saying. He stares silently for a moment, then places a cigarette into his mouth, the paper made bloody by the cut on his hand. Eventually he nods, turns away. 

 

“Later,” he agrees. He turns away so that he doesn't have to see Izaya’s face crack open with that smile he despises but he still hears the amused, pleased chuckle. “I'm not gonna be nice.”

 

As he walks away he hears Izaya laughing at him. “You never are Shizu-chan. You never are.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Blush of sin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy. This really is just smut but hey, sometimes ya just gotta write something filthy.

It's much  _ later  _ by the time he’s knocking on Izaya’s front door. He’s smashed, having had far too much to drink with Vorona and Tom but hey, at least he’s cooled down at last. He’s stumbling back and forth, banging hard on the door over and over. It's a good thing it’s reinforced or else it might have collapsed under the weight of his fist by now. 

 

“Open the fuck up f-”

 

“Would you quiet down?”

 

The door jerks open just as Shizuo’s pounding on it and when his hand hits empty space he lurches forward onto the brunet standing in the frame. Izaya’s eyes widen but it's too late to move and they both topple to the floor in a heap, just over the threshold. The informant groans as the heavy weight of the blond crushes his chest and he starts to claw at the man’s face to try and move him off.

 

“Shizu-chan,” he groans, pawing at the blond hair tickling his face. “You’re crushing my chest.”

 

An animalistic rumble sounds deep in the larger man’s chest. “Fuck you, flea.” 

 

Before Izaya can answer Shizuo’s standing and his fingers clench around the back of his shirt. The collar is drawn tight around his neck as it’s pulled forward and suddenly he’s being dragged along the carpet toward the living room. Izaya laughs at the absurdity but it’s twisted into an unpleasant choking sound and he raises his arms so that he slides out of the shirt and onto the floor. Shizuo turns and looks down at him irritably, holding the stretched garment in his hand. 

 

“Jesus, you really are a fucking caveman, aren't you?” Izaya laughs, clambering to his feet. 

 

“You started this shit by approaching me earlier,” Shizuo states, throwing the shirt back at its owner. “I’d rather spend as little time around you as possible so can we get this over with?”

 

Izaya hums and walks past Shizuo, pulling his shirt back on. The blond follows, another growl rumbling through his chest and he almost wrenches Izaya off the ground again to get him to the bedroom faster. Before his fingers reach the back of his shirt, Izaya turns and fixes him with an irritable glare. He slaps Shizuo’s hand away deftly and stands firm with his own hands on his hips. 

 

“Stop ruining all my clothes,” he complains, plucking the hem of the shirt with his thumb and forefinger. “Do you know how many sets of this outfit I go through because of you?”

 

“Don't care,” the blond grunts. As quickly as he can manage, he swings his arm around and shoves Izaya back against the wall. He pins him easily with one finger against his sternum and when the informant tries to struggle he gets a grip around his throat so he can pick him up off the floor. “You've ruined half my uniforms. Stop fuckin’ squirming.”

 

Shizuo rolls his eyes and starts unbuttoning his shirt with his free hand, ignoring the other man’s laboured breathing. Izaya rasps something unintelligible, the chokehold too strong to push words past. With his feet off the ground like this it feels as if he’s swinging from an iron noose. 

 

“You're such a pain. You were the one who wanted me here and all you do is fuck around,” Shizuo grumbles. Izaya’s scratching at the hand around his neck but the small scrapes are barely felt. The blond gets quickly annoyed by the thrashing so he doesn't bother going to the bedroom. Instead, he wipes the files from Izaya’s desk and shoves the man over the surface. Izaya drags in a much needed gasp when his throat is released - it's sore and he knows that there will be bruises staining his skin in the morning. After shedding his shirt, Shizuo clamps his hand back down around Izaya’s throat and as his face starts to flush purple and his breath is unable to pass the tight hold, the informant grins widely. 

 

“That’s...that’s my m-monster,” he manages to croak. His hand flies to his pocket and he blindly rummages for his flick knife. The beast notices and tears his hand away so that he can slam it down beside his head. Izaya gives a pained wheeze, his wrist bone cracking beneath the iron grip. 

 

“Breaking,” Izaya gasps, his words strained beneath Shizuo’s chokehold. He flicks his gaze over to his wrist, which is beginning to seriously hurt, then back to the blond. It takes the monster a moment to realise what Izaya’s saying but before he can take any action the informant shoves his knee hard into Shizuo’s stomach. With a grunt, he releases his grip on Izaya’s wrist, though the hand on his throat remains. The informant lets out a breath of relief despite the pain shooting up his forearm. It’s going to be fractured at the very least, he’ll definitely have to see Shinra in the morning. 

 

Shizuo swallows thickly and leans closer to Izaya’s face. He slowly loosens his hold and the smaller man starts to cough aggressively as the air re-enters his lungs. “Why do you come to _me_? Can't you get anyone else to fuck you?”

 

“Of course I can, Shizu-chan,” Izaya wheezes, bright smile as terrifying as ever. His eyes glaze over a little, as if he’s thinking of something else, something outside of this room, outside of their twisted, fucked up relationship. “I hate you more than anyone or anything - I would call it recompense in a way. Punishment, penance, absolution...”

 

“For what?” Shizuo snarls, baring his teeth. 

 

“This may come as a surprise to you but-” he pauses. He swallows and Shizuo feels his Adam’s apple bob beneath his palm. “Sometimes I know that I am acting in a way that could be considered unpleasant. It is regretful but necessary in my line of work.”

 

Shizuo scoffed and presses his fingers harder into the informant’s windpipe. “If you know you commit evil acts and you hate going through this ‘punishment’ so much, why do you keep doing such things?”

 

Izaya chuckles gently as he slides his hand into the blond’s trousers and grips him firmly. The beast sucks in a sharp breath at the sensation but his fingers loosen around Izaya’s throat and he doesn’t tell him to stop. “Because it’s too much fun. People are so interesting when put under pressure, I can barely stand my excitem-!” 

 

His words are cut off into a gargled groan when the beast punches him hard on the cheek. Izaya’s head collides with the desk but he doesn’t feel anything break or crumble - Shizuo must be holding back. The thought makes him smirk. 

 

“Shut the fuck up, you nasty piece of shit,” he growls, hand tightening again until Izaya splutters loudly and begins to choke. “You want punishment, fine, I’d be more than happy to beat the shit outta you while getting my rocks off.”

 

“Th-that’s my mon- _ ugh _ -monster.”

 

“I said,  _ shut up, _ ” Shizuo snaps, pulling Izaya off the counter slightly just so he can bash his head back down on the hard surface. “I'll be sure to make it hurt. I'm sure whatever you did deserves it.”

 

The informant grunts in pain but he doesn’t stop smiling, he never stops smiling. A small stream of blood trickles out of his mouth and when his grin stretches wider, Shizuo can see scarlet staining his teeth. His cheekbone has split open from the blow to his face and there’s more red there, dripping down to his jaw. It’s disgusting, it’s disgusting that Shizuo did that to Izaya and it’s even worse that he doesn’t care. He always feels a little guilt toward the people he beats, both innocent bystanders and the more unsavoury character but Izaya is different. He feels nothing but a burning hatred toward this man, he doesn’t give a shit if Izaya’s hurting.  The informant smirks, gaze lingering on the other man’s naked torso long enough for him to feel uncomfortable. Izaya was well aware of Shizuo’s dislike of his scarred, overpowered body and was more than happy to use that against him. 

 

“Stop staring, flea.”

 

“Are you done with foreplay honey?” the brunet asks, sarcastically. “Because I’d like to get started.”

 

Shizuo scowls and pulls Izaya off the table by the scruff of his already stretched collar so that he can flip him over. He shoves him back onto the desk and pulls on his arms so that he can pin them at the base of his spine. The informant gasps softly when his injured wrist is jerked at an uncomfortable angle but he doesn’t try to escape and Shizuo is well-aware that if Izaya didn’t  _ want  _ to be in this position then he sure as hell wouldn’t be. It sickens him somewhat that the brunet allows himself to be handled in such a manner, that he seems to relish in watching Shizuo lose it but no matter how hard he tries he can’t stop himself from giving Izaya what he wants. 

 

“Fuck,” he snarls, yanking down the smaller man’s trousers and underwear with his free hand. “I fucking hate you.”

 

“So, show me,” Izaya breathes. He grinds his ass back into Shizuo’s crotch and chuckles when he hears the deep sound rumbling coming from the blond’s chest. “Just  _ fuck me  _ already.”

 

The monster growls and unbuttons his trousers but it’s too fiddly and he finds he needs both his hands. With an annoyed grumble, he leans back so that he could pick his discarded bow-tie up from the floor. He wraps the material around Izaya’s wrists and secures it tightly so that they’re held in place. 

 

“I didn’t realise you were into bondage, Shizu-chan.” Izaya laughs, turning his head back to look at the other man as he pushes his now-undone trousers past his hips. “That’s good to know for the future.”

 

“Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

 

The informant opens his mouth to speak again but his words are broken by a gasp when he feels two moistened fingers push inside his body. They twist painfully before sliding out again and Izaya lets out a shaky breath when he rams them back in hard enough to make stars cloud his vision. This action is repeated until Izaya’s a sweaty, panting mess of a man and Shizuo can't hold himself back any longer. 

 

“Always so impatient,” Izaya hums, rolling his head to one side so he can smirk at the blond. 

 

Shizuo slams his hand against Izaya’s head so that he covers his eyes. He doesn’t like his eyes, they look like rust and crusted blood and make him feel sick. “Don’t fucking look at me flea.”

 

“Gonna blindfold me too?” 

 

The blond hisses as he presses forward into Izaya’s ass and he rests his other hand around his hip so that he can steady his movements. He doesn’t hold still for long, uncaring about the way the other man is gasping for air and squirming as if he’s in pain. The hand on Izaya’s head moves to his hair and he grips the dark strands tightly as he starts to rock his hips back and forth. 

 

“I could just rip your fuckin’ eyes out, flea,” he growls, fingers digging into the smaller man’s hip hard enough to bruise. 

 

“You wouldn’t-  _ ah _ \- do that to me, darling,” Izaya laughs. Despite the slight pain, the monster feels good and he adores the fact Shizuo isn’t careful with him. He knows for a fact that the blond doesn’t have anyone else, he’s probably too afraid of hurting them accidentally. But that doesn’t matter here and in a strange, twisted way it makes Izaya feel special. “If you blinded me I couldn’t run away from you. Wouldn’t you miss our little chases?”

 

“Shut up,” Shizuo orders, slamming hard into the informant to punctuate his statement. Izaya whines but it seems more pleasured than pained and his fingers curl into fists at the small of his back where they’re tied. The blond rolls his eyes and pulls on Izaya’s hair to raise his head slightly off the desk. “You get off on pain don’t you, you little freak?” 

 

Izaya lets out a series of gasps as Shizuo speeds up, pounding him against the table so hard he worries that it’s going to collapse beneath him. His cock is straining, leaking against the wood and he wishes that his hands were free so he can jerk himself off, knowing full well that Shizuo won’t do it. The monster lets go of his hair and his head smacks down onto the desk, sending stars across his vision. At the same moment Shizuo’s cock hits the right area inside him and Izaya groans, the sound lusty and broken over shuddering breaths. 

 

“It’s- _ fuck-  _ it’s a common f-fetish, Shizu-chan,” Izaya moans. Shizuo’s free hand rests on top of his bound hands and press down firmly, causing a spark of pain across his injured wrist. It hurts but it proves the blond’s point when the rush adrenaline makes his mouth drop open and another wanton moan burst from his lips. “Just like your bondage thing.”

 

“I don’t have a ‘bondage thing’,” he grunts, leaning over Izaya’s back to press his lips against the man’s shoulder blade. “But-”

 

He opens his mouth and bites down hard on the flesh below him, hard enough to break the skin. The tang of blood rolling over his tongue and Izaya’s cries of pained pleasure send him over the edge and he collapses onto the smaller man’s back with a final, aggressive growl. He remains still for a moment, trying to catch his breath, then straightens up and tucks his cock back into his trousers. Izaya turns his head around to glare at him as he buttons his fly and Shizuo finds himself satisfied by the flush on his bloody cheek. 

 

“You bit me,” Izaya snaps, narrowing his eyes.

 

“I like biting,” Shizuo replies, searching in his trouser pocket for a cigarette. 

 

“Very fitting for an animal like yourself,” the informant answers, snidely. “Can you untie me already? I need to-”

 

“No.”

 

Izaya frowns and turns his body awkwardly on the desk so he can get a better view of the other man. He’s peering down at the informant with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a lighter in one hand. “What?”

 

The blond smirks and flicks the lighter shut so he can slip it back in his pocket. “Y’know maybe you’re right. Maybe I do kinda like bondage.”

 

Before Izaya can reply, Shizuo’s stepping forward and he grabs the nape of his neck so that he can pull him off the desk. The informant stumbles due to the way his jeans are slung low on his thighs but Shizuo drags him around the table and shoves him down in his office chair. The monster moves behind him and jerks his arms painfully up and over the back of the chair so he is unable to move them. Izaya’s breathless by this point and more than confused, so he struggles a little as Shizuo wheels him across the room. 

 

“What the fuck are you doing, Shizu-chan?” he complains, wincing in pain as his struggles hurt his fractured wrist. 

 

Shizuo swivels Izaya around to face him and sits down on the sofa so they’re at the same level. He smirks at the flustered informant and pulls the chair closer so that he can pull the man’s jeans down to his ankles. “You said you like pain, right? You wanted punishment, right, Iz-a-ya?”

 

Izaya raises one of his feet when Shizuo discards his trousers and lands a kick on the other man’s knee but he barely registers it, he just grabs hold of his ankle and pushes it back to the floor. “Stupid monster, isn’t this when you usually leave?”

 

“Yeah,” Shizuo replies, peering up at Izaya with a dangerous look in his eye. The informant glares back at him, clearly annoyed, but there’s a touch of uncertainty to his gaze. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and spits in the hand not holding the filter. “But you pissed me off today, flea.” 

 

He grabs the base of Izaya’s cock roughly in his hand and the informant lets out a loud whine, surprised by the sudden contact. “W-what are you doing?”

 

“Be quiet,” Shizuo orders, clicking his tongue in annoyance. His smile pulls up in one corner and his eyes darken as he starts pumping his hand up and down. Izaya sucks in a breath but he doesn’t break eye contact with Shizuo, he wouldn’t allow the beast to take the upper hand like that. “Unless you want me to make this really unpleasant for you.”

 

“It’s always unpleasant with you,” Izaya comments, smirking nastily. “It’s with  _ you,  _ after all.”

 

“Unpleasant it is,” the blond takes a drag of his cigarette and twists his hand in a way that makes Izaya keen. He stabs the burning tip against Izaya’s naked thigh. The skin fizzles and the informant screams but Shizuo continues, steadily pumping Izaya’s cock and staining various spots of his skin with ash and fire. 

 

“Fuck,  _ agh _ , fuck!” Izaya screams, hips bucking and rolling around in the chair. The blond smiles and discards the burned-out filter on the floor so that he can rub gentle circles over the small burns on the tender flesh. There’s a pleasing blush on Izaya’s face and his mouth is hanging open wide, saliva dripping down his chin. His eyes are heavily lidded and he’s panting, twisting in the chair, clearly close to completion. “Shizu-chan, I’m gonna c-”

 

Suddenly, the pressure becomes too much and Izaya shrieks and lurches forward as an orgasm rocks through his body. A stream of cum splatters across his shirt and he bucks his hips as Shizuo continues to slowly move his hand up and down. He gasps and throws his torso forward but his tied arms keep him in place, so he remains where he is and screws his eyes shut as he starts to come down from his high. When his body stops quaking he comes to realise that Shizuo’s still sliding his hand along the shaft of his over-sensitive cock and it’s starting to hurt. Izaya squirms in the chair and rocks his hips from side to side, opening his eyes so that he can stare at Shizuo. 

 

“What’re you doing?” he sighs, voice shaking slightly under the strain. Shizuo smirks and moves his hand up to palm the head of his cock and Izaya shrieks at the feeling. He’s still too sensitive, it’s raw and  _ fuck,  _ it hurts, it’s too much. “Agh, fuck, wait-”

 

“You wanted it to hurt, so fucking deal with it, flea,” Shizuo drawls, leaning closer as he continues to roll his palm over the head of the other man’s cock. Izaya’s visibly sweating, he’s baring his teeth but he looks anything but intimidating right now, not while he’s covered in cum and drool and blood. He winces when Shizuo drags his hand down the shaft again and when he twists his fingers around the head again Izaya’s mouth opens in a noiseless scream, sending more saliva running down his chin. 

 

“Oh fuck, it’s too- n-no, fuck,  _ fuck, _ ” Izaya mumbles through gasps and pants. Shizuo squeezes tighter and the brunet growls in anger, hips jerking up to try and rid himself of the assaulting hand. “S-stop it, Shizu-chan you stupid beast!”

 

The blond raises his free hand so that he can fist the back of Izaya’s hair and force the squirming man to look at him. There’s hatred in his eyes but a hint of desperation that he wants to fully exploit. “Say please, ask nicely, use my full name.”

 

“Go fuck yourself!” Izaya hisses, seething with rage at this point. He’s had enough but he’d rather die than force himself to be nice to the monster abusing his dick. 

 

Shizuo tuts and shakes his head, continuing his excruciating motions. “Such a whiny little shit. You really don’t help yourself, Iz-a-ya.”

 

“Screw y- _ agh _ !”

 

“Never mind,” Shizuo hums, eyes glinting with the promise of hell. “You’re gonna come once more like this, then I’m going to fuck you again. We’ll see if you’re ready to play nice then, kay?” 

 

Izaya grits his teeth together and screws his eyes shut, not willing to let Shizuo see how much he’s affecting him. He reassures himself that he will make it, he won’t let the monster beat him - not at school, not on the streets and certainly not here now. Then Shizuo twists his palm around the top of his cock again and Izaya feels a crack splinter across his resolve. The blond leans in closer and chuckles gently as he nips at Izaya’s earlobe with his teeth. 

 

“You wanted absolution right?” he murmurs. Izaya shudders at the sound and bites the inside of his cheek to stop from groaning. “Then repent, flea.” 

 

The smaller man cries out but it sounds more like sin than a prayer. 

 


End file.
